


Overheard

by HanginWithLilJ (FlyDizzeeD)



Series: Learning to Cope [15]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, Non-Sexual Age Play, Protective Gents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 19:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17987021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyDizzeeD/pseuds/HanginWithLilJ
Summary: Really, Miles is purely accidental. None of them planned to end up having a weirdly creative, incredibly lonely little kid over for dinner.





	Overheard

“You ready to go home?”

Jeremy perks up and pulls his attention away from his monitor, tilting his head back to look up at Jack. The man is stood behind his chair, leaning on it, smiling down at him.

It's Tuesday.

“I sure as hell am.” Geoff answers from his own desk.

Chuckling, Jeremy reaches up and pats Jack's cheek. It's Tuesday, they aren't even in the car yet, and he's already slipping. The world feels a bit soft around the edges, a bit less complicated, and the way Jack grins at him just seals the deal. He sighs as Jack mirrors him, reaching down to gently stroke a thumb over his cheek. The action makes him giggle. Sue him.

But the position isn't too easy on the neck, so he pulls away enough to spin his chair around. Geoff’s there, too, unable to hide his smile, and it's all quite a lot, isn't it?

He goes to speak, gets a bit confused by what's in his mouth, but is less thrown when he realizes it's his own index and middle finger. Humming, he chews lightly at the digits, ignores the eye rolls of the other two men. The whine from the other side of the room does catch his attention, though. He looks over at Gavin, who's glaring at one of his monitors.

“Flipping-- give me a few more minutes to figure out this nonsense.”

“Hurry it up. Ryan's cooking tonight and I refuse to be late.”

The frustrated Brit gives Geoff a thumbs up and gets back to handling whatever's gone wrong with his computer this time. Jeremy turns away from him, chair swivelling around when he feels a tap on his shoulder. Jack is crouched some so they're eye to eye, and he kisses Jeremy's nose as soon as the younger man is facing him. It earns him a laugh and a kiss in return, though less calculated and more under his eye than on his nose. He doesn't complain, just takes Jeremy's hands in his own and lets the boy play with his fingers.

“What do you wanna do when we get home, bud?”

“Eat.” Jeremy says, looking serious. Jack has to bite back a laugh.

“I meant playing, Jer.”

“Oh! Yeah, I wanna play.” He nods enthusiastically.

Geoff's poorly hidden chuckles don't register with him.

“I think he means what do you _want_ to play.”

It takes the full clarification for the molasses-laced gears in Jeremy's head to finally turn enough to click together an answer. Things like this are harder when he's small. He doesn't really care, though, too caught up in all the good.

“We can finish dragons.”

Jack himself perks up at that.

“The Lego dragon set?” He asks, surprised Jeremy even remembers the project he kind of abandoned weeks ago. It had been a gift from Jack, but he knew something with instructions and patience had kind of been a long shot, so he wasn't too torn up when Jeremy's focus on the set waned.

“Yeah. Do we still have them?”

“All the pieces should be in the box still. I'm pretty sure it's in the cabinet with the board games and Geoff's puzzles.”

“I don't like puzzles.”

“That's because you don't understand true fun.” Geoff chimes in from where he's leaning against Jeremy's desk. He ruffles Jeremy's hair as he moves from his spot and over to the couch. Suddenly there's something flying through the air and smacking Jeremy in the chest with a feather soft touch. He furrows his eyebrows at the stuffed sheep in his lap.

“Jason?”

“Jason.” Gavin says automatically without looking away from the screen.

“Jason.” The two gents speak in unison.

The whole thing makes Jeremy laugh, but he's still confused.

“Why's he at work? Mikey's at home.”

“Looks like ol’ Jason had to work overtime. He was wondering if he could hitch a ride home with you.” Geoff explains, not mentioning the text he'd received from Michael that simply said “sheep please” with an emoji he didn't honestly understand. Jeremy hugs the sheep to his chest protectively.

“Course he can. Sheep don't have Uber.”

“Or Lyft.” Jack adds, nodding. “It's a societal issue, really.”

And that's all the talk Jeremy seems willing to participate in for now, because he dutifully shoves a thumb in his mouth, ignoring Geoff's pained look. His free hand clutches Jason tight. He's now the sworn protector of Michael's sheep, and he won't let his bubba down.

“How old are you?”

The new voice from the door stomps on the calm, happy moment and makes Jeremy jump out of his skin. In a fraction of a second his thumb is out of his mouth and Jason is shoved under his desk and out of sight. Jack looks startled, too, but he immediately puts himself between Jeremy and the newcomer, fierce protectiveness pouring off of him in waves. Geoff is standing straighter and Gavin seems to have stopped typing. Heart rate soaring, Jeremy peeks around Jack just barely. His eyes widen at the man standing in their doorway.

That signature dumb smile slowly melts off of Miles's face when he realizes there are now three people glaring at him, looking ready to attack. He seems a bit thrown by the less than cheery reaction. Geoff speaks before he can.

“How long have you been standing there, Miles?”

“Um.” He doesn't really look like he even remembers. His hands are fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, but he only flounders a moment longer before he becomes himself again and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “I do it, too.”

They don't let anything out at all. Jack's expression is calculated in how unreadable it is.

“Do what?”

“I-- the um, the thing,” and now Miles seems to be the nervous one, afraid he's misread the situation, “the things with the toys and stuff.”

“You mean the collectibles and shit people send us?”

But the tone is testing. Gruff and on edge, like a challenge. Miles backs up a step, quickly moving from nervous to straight up thrown by the seriousness of such a usually fun group. He looks pale. Scared.

“I'm-- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-- I should go. I thought you were-- I'm sorry.”

His voice breaks. Cracks in half on a strained apology. Geoff frowns. This feels bad. Wrong. He doesn't feel like they're protecting Jeremy anymore. Jack continues.

“Yeah. You shouldn't eavesdrop on people. Goodbye--”

Geoff cuts him off.

“How old are _you_ , Miles?”

The answer is fast. Automatic.

“Four.”

And then Miles freezes. He looks closer to tears than Jeremy, who's more curious than shaken at this point, and who speaks next.

“I'm three but not always.”

It's quiet after that and only slightly less tense. Miles wavers in the doorway, obviously not sure if he should stay and give in to his usual curiosity or run away before Jack kills him. The latter option is very tempting, but it seems the man has calmed down some, and the decision is made for him when Geoff waves him over.

“Come in and close the door, Miles.”

He does as he's told, which is honestly more than Geoff expected from him, knowing the man he's dealing with. The door closes with a click that's heinously loud in the mostly silent room. Cautiously, he walks in a bit further, still keeping his distance from the others. Tension floods every corner of the space up until the exact moment Jeremy speaks up, his much more timid and friendly voice having some profound effect on Miles.

“You’re small, too?”

“Sometimes it's easier than being big important Miles.” He admits, then adds on, a bit more rushed and with traces of his usual enthusiasm; “I have Transformers.”

Well, Jeremy's sold. He looks up at Jack and Geoff.

“He's got Transformers.”

Jack sighs.

“We heard him, Jer. You have Transformers, too.”

“Nuh uh. We only have Ryan's lion bots and he says they aren't Transformers.”

Miles's eyes widen.

“You have Voltron?”

“Yeah but Ryan won't let you play with 'em. He says they're very important.”

“Well, yeah. They protect the galaxy.”

As riveting as the conversation between the two is, Geoff interrupts it.

“Miles, can I ask how long you've been regressing, or whatever you call it?”

“Yeah!”

A silence. Miles watches him with a smile, all traces of his earlier fear gone. Light switch.

“... How long have you been regressing?”

He squints at nothing in particular as he thinks it over.

“Eight.”

Jack raises a brow. “Months?”

“Years.”

Whoa.

“Jesus.” Gavin mumbles. The others look pretty god damn thrown themselves. It makes Miles fidget where he's standing, hands winding into his shirt again. Naturally, Jeremy is the first to recover, and far too trusting.

“Do you wanna come over and play?”

“Oh, Jeremy, I don't think--”

“Yeah! Yeah, I can come play. I can bring my Transformers.”

Clever little shit that he is, Jeremy whips his head up to look at Geoff and Jack. Fucking puppy dog eyes. God damn it. The gents have already lost. Geoff groans.

“Guess I better tell Ryan to make enough for one more.”

\---

The car ride home involves Geoff sending a lot of warning texts while Jack drives and the three boys in the backseat whisper poorly among themselves. He's honest, because there's really no way around “we're bringing another kid home for dinner, also he's a co-worker.”

Miles, Gavin, and Jeremy at least seem to be having quite the time. He catches bits of conversation about robots, dragons, and perhaps robot dragons. Chooses not to think too hard about it, or about the entire situation. By the time they pull into the driveway, Gavin is going on and on about how Miles should join their world in Minecraft. They get out of the car and the three sprint for the front door, yelling something about a race. Geoff can't help his smile.

Rich scents of cheese and pasta flood his senses as he and Jack follow the boys inside. He nearly moans at the aroma alone.

“Honey, we're home!” He croons instead, because he knows exactly what Ryan's eye roll looks like without even having to be in the kitchen. Jack drops the keys in the bowl by the door and grunts when he's suddenly pounced on by an overly enthusiastic Boston boy.

“Jack! Jack! We need the dragons! Gavin had an idea! Can we get 'em?”

Geoff suspects the idea involves robots.

“Go for it, JJ. Let me go say hi to Ryan and Michael, okay?”

He receives a dutiful nod and Jeremy is off again, racing up the stairs to his room, where the other two boys must be waiting.

“No running on the stairs!” Geoff weakly calls after, knowing he'll be ignored until someone ends up with a nasty bruise. Shaking his head, he sighs and follows Jack to the kitchen.

Fuck, they're domestic.

Ryan's stupid apron makes him smile. The man's extreme focus on making pasta makes him laugh. And the way Michael is criticizing the whole ordeal from his perch on the kitchen island seals the deal. Jack kisses both of their cheeks as he goes about getting drinks for the other boys. There's some flour in Michael's hair that he tries to brush away while he's at it, but the younger man's curly locks don't allow it. Grateful for the large kitchen, Geoff slides in behind Ryan and wraps his arms around the other man, watching him crank the weird pasta thing that Geoff has no clue how to use. His own cooking skills lay elsewhere.

“So, Miles?” Ryan asks, getting right to the point. He sighs.

“Yep. Jeremy and Gavin seem to love him, at least. And he's a sweet kid.”

He grabs Ryan's chin and gently turns his head, pulling him into a kiss. Michael interrupts the moment.

“Kiss later, assholes, I'm starving.”

“Yeah, assholes.” Jack agrees, then leans in to steal a kiss from each before he leaves the kitchen. He calls for the three upstairs and is rewarded with what almost sounds like a stampede of water buffalo. The boys tear ass downstairs, Jeremy holding some… thing, in his hands. As soon as they're in the living room he holds the creation out to Jack, a proud grin lighting up his face.

“It's a dragon robot.”

Geoff smirks.

Jack… does an impressive job of not looking horrified. The half-finished dragons from the set have been combined with miscellaneous other Lego parts to form a sort of super creature. It actually looks surprisingly solid. Gavin pipes up.

“It's called Dragontron.”

“Hey!” Ryan yells, indignant. “That's derivative!”

“It's very nice, boys.”

Praise is apparently all they were looking for, as the boys high five one another before Jeremy gently takes the creation back and hands it to Miles, who messes with the… arms? Legs? It's hard to tell.

“Glad to see you're having fun, Miles.” Geoff comments, smiling at the boy.

He looks up and meets the smile full force.

“I've never played with anyone else before.”

“Never?”

“Nope! I play by myself. It's okay though, I have Transformers.”

Jesus _fuck_ that makes Geoff's heart sink. Eight years of playing by himself. Nobody to look out for him. No other kids to play along with his ideas for weird Lego creations. His mind is flooded with images of Miles, sitting alone on his apartment floor, a few Transformers the only company he has.

They're in deep, aren't they?


End file.
